Dark Horizon
by Ingram
Summary: AU/Crossover-Bella moves to Gotham city instead of Forks, to live with her father, Deputy Commissioner Charlie Swan. Set before and after TDK, with Jacob playing Batman and Edward...wondering why Bella's so serious.
1. Went to a party last Saturday night

I hated Gotham City. After seven years with my mom in Arizona, I'd decided to give her and her new husband some privacy and volunteered to move to this urban wasteland with my father, Charlie, the Deputy Commissioner of the Gotham City Police Force. Don't get me wrong, my father was a good man; unlike 99.9% of the rest of Gotham's cops, he was honest and refused any bribe the mob ever offered him; of course, being as rich as he was, he could afford to, something many of the underpaid and overworked Gotham cops couldn't do. So the money kept us from the kind of poverty that might draw someone into Gotham's criminal underbelly…but the downside was, my dad was always being invited to miserable, boring cocktail parties and dinners and fundraisers and a dozen other "social functions" as he put it, which seemed to only "function" as excuses for rich old men to get drunk and hit on waitresses.

And he was dragging me along to all of them, of course.

Take tonight for instance; we were at a black tie fundraiser for Jasper Hale, Gotham City's District Attorney, thrown by Jacob Black, owner of Black Enterprises and Gotham City's favorite loud mouthed playboy, in his high-rise penthouse.

I was bored out of my mind.

It had been interesting to see just how young Jacob Black was (he seemed to only be a few years older than me), and just how awkward the normally hard as nails district attorney was in the company of Gotham's trust fund brigade. But the novelty quickly wore off, and I settled into an isolated corner by the penthouse's windows.

So I was doubly surprised when the normal dull drone of the cocktail party was shattered by a shotgun blast. I pressed myself to the window, my eyes desperately seeking my father as chaos erupted around me; a half dozen or so armed men were stalking through the crowd, their faces covered by bizarre clown masks.

"Good even-ing ladies and gentle_men_…we are tonight's entertainment!" the voice rose and fell in odd ways, stressing syllables in the wrong places,

"I only have one question…where…is…Jasper _Hale_?"

The room grew quiet; you could have heard a pin drop, and I could here the voice moving through the crowd of people, asking questions about Jasper but I couldn't see who it belonged to yet.

I started to move slowly away from the corner and towards the center of the room, trying to find Charlie, but I still couldn't see anything through the crowd of people.

Suddenly a new voice, this one pompous and deep, announced bluntly,

"We're not intimidated by thugs!"

Silence fell again.

"Y'know…" the bizarre voice picked up again, "You remind me of my father…_I hated my father_!"

I heard a small scuffle, and then a woman's voice rang out from the other end of the party,

"Okay, stop!"

The crowd parted, and I could see the woman as the clown masked gunmen surrounded her. It was the short, black haired woman the district attorney had arrived with; I think her name was Alice Dawes…

"Well hullo _beautiful_." the bizarre voice gloated, as the crowd closed me off again,

"You must be Jaspers squ-eeze…and you are beautiful."

I could hear the voice keep talking in low tones, but when I tried to edge forward and see what was going on, one of the armed clowns stuffed a gun in my face and pushed me back. Suddenly there was an outburst of bizarre laughter, and then all hell broke lose.

The crowd parted and I could finally _see_.

And I kind of wished I couldn't.

A man in a jet black suit of armor and black cape, his face covered by a black cowl, was brawling with the clowns. I knew who _that_ was of course; he was on the evening news every night—Batman. Gotham City's vigilante extraordinaire.

The fight was over in a matter of seconds, and the clowns were on the ground, except for one. He was dressed in a purple over coat and wore a bizarre mask with long green hair. That was all I could see, as he quickly snatched up Alice Dawes and put a gun to her head.

"Let her go!" Batman ordered,

"Sure, you just take off your little mask and show us all _who you really are_."

The clown laughed, and then shot out one of the windows behind him.

He held Alice out of it.

"Let her go!"

The clown giggled,

"Very poor choice of words." he said, laughing, before dropping Alice out the window.

Alice screamed as she fell, and Batman dove out the window behind her.

Laughing maniacally, the clown watched them fall.

And then he turned, and he was eye to eye with…me.

I realized that the clown was not wearing mask.

His face was coated smeared with white make up, with black circles daubed around his eyes…and red around his mouth and in the deep, puckered scars that gave his face a permanent smile. Keen eyes leered at me from the black circles, and the clown spoke;

"My oh my…I've uh, been going to all the wrong parties, haven't I? Looks like all the hotties are at the _fundraisers_."

The clown let out a piercing cackle that made me flinch.

"It's too bad that I'm going to have to get goin' here…hey, maybe you could es-_cort _me to the elevator, huh gorgeous?"

Before I could say anything, the clown encircled my waist with an arm and began to drag me along with him towards the penthouse elevator. My face was inches from his scarred, bizarre visage, and I began to shudder,

"Ahhh…" the clown smirked, "I can see my uh, pecu_liar_ charm is having an effect."

I turned my head a bit and saw that his green dyed hair was shot through with locks of bronze. A detached part of my mind wondered if this was his natural color…

Thankfully we soon arrived at the elevator doors, and he loosened his grip on my waist before punching the "down" button.

"Well it's been fun, folks!" the clown shouted at the still frozen crowd of socialites, "But I'm gonna have to bring my performance to a close for the night."

He turned to me and winked, his mouth breaking into a crooked smile that lost nothing to his mutilated face.

"You've been a _great_ audience!"

The clown reached into a pocket on his green waistcoat and pulled out a small cylinder; a grenade. He casually yanked the pin out and tossed it into the middle of the crowd.

People started to scream in terror and panic as the grenade rolled around on the floor; they scrambled to get over each other, tearing their expensive evening wear to pieces in the struggle, while all the while the small grenade was kicked all over the marble floors by the surging mass of humanity. I watched in shock, too amazed to feel fear, as the grenade skittered around under the crowd, which darted back and forth to try and avoid it.

I kept waiting for the explosion, but when I glanced at the clown and saw his gleeful expression, I had the feeling there wasn't going to be one.

The grenade was a dud.

The clown howled with laughter at his insidious joke.

And, amazingly, I found myself giggling as Gotham's elite ran headlong in terror from a harmless prop.

The clown manic laughter ceased and he turned to look at me in surprise.

"Oh my…beautiful _and_ a sense of humor." he licked his scars lips and waggled his eyebrows at me, "I like that."

Behind us, the elevator doors swung open.

"So, if you're ever in the mood for some more fun." the clown began, as the terrified cries reached a crescendo, "Give me a call."

He tucked a playing under one of the shoulder straps of my dress.

He winked a me again, and I finally noticed the his eyes were gold; a deep, warm, gold that seemed to clash horribly with his bizarre make up, purple suit and green hair.

And then he ducked into the elevator and the doors slid shut.

Still staring at the closed steel doors, I idly reached for the playing card he'd tucked under my dress and looked at it; it seemed to be an antique.

I flipped it over to look at the face side;

It was a Joker. And beneath the cackling fool on it, a phone number had been scratched in rust-red ink.

I suddenly realized who the clown was, and what had just happened.

The Joker, the dark menace who had been terrorizing the city for months, had just asked me out.


	2. Jacob Black, Billonaire

_Authors note: okay, I should have explained this earlier, but I got impatient to publish the first chapter, anyway here goes; this storyline is set in AU where everyone is human (well, more or less), but still following the basic plot of Twilight, albeit with the plot of The Dark Knight and Batman Begins wound through it. So assume all characters who were Vampires and Werewolves (Ok, ok "shape shifters") are now human, but I promise to keep them as close as I can to their original personalities, except when this proves to be impossible (I won't make the Joker act totally like Edward, or vice versa, but I can in enough ways to prove my point). Just remember, this is all in good fun, and should not be taken too seriously. In any case, please, R&R! _

_PS-This is my first Twilight fan fic, and it is in no way payback for my GF talking me into reading the series. R&R, if you please…_

_PPS-Quick Character notes; Alice is filling in for Rachel Dawes and Jasper for _

_Harvey Dent. And yes, Edward's the Joker. Y so srs?_

Shortly after The Joker disappeared into the elevator, Charlie had rushed forward from the still panicking crowd and yelled at me to get down.

"Dad, the grenades just a dud…" I protested, fruitlessly it turned out, as he tossed me down to the floor and hunched over me to try and shield me from the direction the grenade seemed to have last been kicked in.

"Seriously, Dad, it's a fake!" I shouted.

"What do you mean?"

"The grenade isn't real Dad. He just threw it because he wanted to panic everyone."

Charlie didn't budge. "It might just have a time delay fuse or something sweetie, we won't know until the bomb squad gets here…but in the mean time, you get up and run for the stairs, I'm going to try and get things calmed down around here."

"Do you need any help?"

"No sweetie, you just get up and run for the exit as soon as I move, ok?"

Charlie stood up, and I made a break for the door…and promptly slipped and fell on the waxed floor.

I scrambled to my feet again and took off in the direction Charlie indicated, kicking off my high heeled shoes as I ran. When I made it to the hallway, I found it was clogged with a pushing, shouting crowd of partygoers.

"Oh boy…" I whispered.

The door looked like it was jammed shut from the other side.

Behind me I heard Charlie shouting over the din, trying to clam things down. By the sound of things, he wasn't having much success. I decided the best thing to do would be to get to a phone and call the police…in case they hadn't already been alerted by the gunfire - or the screams - or the man dressed as bat jumping out the window after the falling woman…

I wandered down the hallway, away from the knot of people by the stairway entrance, trying to find a telephone or cell phone. I opened the door to what turned out to be the master bedroom, and found a portable phone lying on a nightstand.

Just as I dashed across the room to pick it up and dial one of the room's smooth marble walls…opened.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I watched, open-mouthed, as a tall young man with dark skin and short black hair stepped out and tried to smooth his disheveled tuxedo.

It was Jacob Black, the billionaire playboy who owned this penthouse; I hadn't seen him since the Joker and his clowns had crashed the party.

He slipped out of the door, stood up and stopped dead when he saw me.

"Umm…hi," he said at last. "Are they gone?"

Behind him, the wall slid closed.

I didn't respond, too shocked by the wall…and everything else that had just happened…to speak.

"Hey, you okay?" Jacob asked. "You don't look so…"

"What…what the heck was that?" I demanded, pointing at the now closed hidden door.

"My panic room," Jacob answered, smiling nervously.

"Your…panic room?" I asked, incredulously.

"Yeah, it's a safe room for emergencies; you hide in it and…"

"I saw the movie." I barked, cutting him off. I stormed across the room until I was face to face; or close enough…he was taller than he looked.

"You mean to tell me you ran back here and hid in your panic room while the people at _your own party_ were getting terrorized by a lunatic in clown makeup? Oh and they are gone, actually, so it's safe for you to come out now!"

It was Jacob's turn to look surprised,

"I…I…" he stammered, looking like he had something to say but couldn't figure out a way to put it into words, "Yeah. I guess so."

"Unbelievable," I muttered, shaking my head, "You're just lucky Batman showed up when he did! If he hadn't gotten here, that lunatic might have - _what are you smiling at_?" I demanded; Jacob's face had cracked a mischievous grin.

"Nothing, nothing…it's just…you look…nice when you're angry."

"You…you…you're lucky no one was hurt…" I stopped, suddenly realizing that both Alice Dawes and the Batman had just fallen out of 72nd story window.

"Holy crow!" I yelled, startling Jacob, before turning to run out of the room. I was planning on doing…something. I wasn't sure what, but in any case, I misjudged things a bit and ran smack into the door frame with enough force to send myself falling towards the marble floor.

Suddenly, I stopped.

Strong arms held me steady as someone helped me to my feet.

"You alright?" Jacob Black asked as his muscular arms held my slight frame.

"I think so," I answered. My arm hurt like the devil and I stretched it out and flexed it experimentally. "Yeah, it seems alright…"

"Can I take a look at it? I know a bit of first aid…" Jacob asked while he began investigating my arm without waiting for an answer. He began to carefully feel up along my forearm and elbow, stopping to ask questions once or twice before letting go.

"It seems fine, but you'll have some bruising later on. No extraneous damage done, but you might wanna get it checked out anyway by a professional."

"Thank you…" I looked up at him and saw the sincere concern in his dark eyes, "Look, I'm sorry I blew up on you…"

"No, that's alright. I deserved it," Jacob shook his head. "Why were you going for the door so fast, anyway?"

"The Joker dropped Alice Dawes out of a window and Batman jumped after her…I uh, was going to try and find out what happened I guess."

Jacob smiled, "I guess you'll be glad to know that they both made it down to the ground in one piece…and even stayed that way when they landed. They're alive and well."

I sighed in relief, "Oh good…wait a minute, how did you know that?"

"I uh, have a police scanner in my panic room," Jacob responded sheepishly.

"Okay…"

Suddenly there was the sound of more panic in the hallway, and I looked over to see a squad of Gotham Police SWAT officers pushing their way through the massed crowd by the stairwell entrance and into the penthouse.

"Looks like the cavalry's here," Jacob commented wryly. "Look, could you do me a favor and not mention the panic room to the cops? It's supposed to be a secret."

I shrugged. "Sure. No problem," I'd let the playboy have his secrets; I was sure they weren't that interesting, anyway.

Half an hour later, I was back down to street level and sitting in the back of an ambulance while a paramedic examined my arm.

"Any pain when I do this?" He asked, pushing back on my arm.

"No."

"How about now?" He pulled my arm forward.

"A little."

"Hmm…well Miss Swan, I think you'll be just fine. You're free to go."

"Thank you," I said as I stood up, grabbed my jacket and hand bag, and stepped out the back of the ambulance.

My feet had barely touched the ground before a dark haired woman with a police badge on a chain around her neck came up to me.

"Isabella Swan? I'm detective Anna Ramirez; I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about what happened tonight."

I shrugged, "Ok. But I don't think I'll be much help…"

The detective smiled encouragingly, "Every little bit information helps, Isabella."

"Bella," I corrected her.

"What?"

"It's just Bella," I said.

"Oh, ok. Well Bella, from the interviews we've done so far we've established that the Joker took you with him to the elevator…"

"Yes," I shivered at the memory, my mind flashing back to the aura of menace, the white make up, the scars, the royal purple overcoat, the painted on red smile…and at the same time, I remembered the bronze hair streaked green by bad hair dye and the striking, warm golden eyes that shone from the black circles painted around his eyes. I tried to shut those thoughts off in a hurry.

"Why?" Anna Ramirez asked.

I shrugged again, "I have no idea. I guess he just wanted a hostage or something."

The detective nodded and wrote something down in her notebook. "Any ideas why he picked you?"

"I have no idea…I think I was just the closest…and I guess he thought I was…pretty," I added, my voice sounding as uncomfortable with the thought as I felt

The detective started to write that down in her notebook but her head jerked up when she fully digested the sentence.

"Excuse me?"

"I know…in his exact words he said I was a _babe_."

"I…uh…and how did you feel about that?" the detective asked, trying to recover.

"Considering he'd just tossed the last woman at the party he found attractive at the party out of a window, I felt a bit nervous."

Detective Ramirez smiled, "I can see why. Did he say anything else?"

"Uhm…not really," I said, thinking of the Joker card in my handbag.

Detective Ramirez nodded, "Okay, well I have a few more questions for you…"  
"Actually, I think that's enough for tonight Detective," Came Charlie's authoritative voice from behind me as well as a set of protective hands on my shoulders.

"But Commissioner Swan…"

"It's alright Detective. I'm sure if she remembers anything else she can find an officer to talk to pretty easily."

The detective smiled slightly before nodding and moving away.

"You alright Bella?" Charlie asked, for what had to be the tenth time tonight.  
"I'm fine Dad, really."

"Okay Bella, but if you need someone to talk to, I'm here."

I smiled slightly. During times like these, I really appreciated Charlie. He was protective of me, but not overly so; a truly over protective parent, after their child had just gotten up close to The Joker, would rush them into the most overbearing psycho-therapy money could buy, not caring that the cure would be far worse than the disease, as it were. But Charlie got me. I just needed my space.

"You ready to go home?" he asked.

"You have no idea," I answered, nodding.

After we got in the car, we settled into a comfortable silence, and my thoughts wandered. I thought again of the playing card with the phone number on it tucked in my purse. I wouldn't lie to myself, I was…intrigued. But I wasn't about to call that number. Just because I hadn't told the police about it didn't mean I was interested on taking The Joker up on his offer. Superficial good looks and sense of humor aside, he was a psychopathic mass murderer. He wasn't exactly date-able material.

Which is too bad, really…it's not like I've had too many other offers. Well…at least interesting ones. I shook my head; that was not someplace I wanted to go. Hopefully that was the last I'd see of the Joker until he was arrested.

And then I went back to thinking about those golden eyes of his…

Oh boy.

***

Back at the street outside Jacob Blacks apartment building, Detective Ramirez slipped away from the mass of police and emergency vehicles blocking the street and ducked down an alley.

"Hello…Mr. Emmet?" She called nervously.

A dark chuckle rose out of the shadows, and a huge man dressed in fatigue pants, a black leather jacket and a black hoodie stepped into the faint glow of light off the street. His dark hair was closely cropped, and his handsome face bore a confident smirk.

"Just Emmet, baby doll," he leered.

"Right.' Ramirez growled; just because these mob types were paying her off didn't mean they could talk to her like that.

"You got the info we wanted?" Emmet demanded.

"Yeah…" Ramirez hesitated. She didn't want to do this…

"Look, Detective I can promise you that no one's gonna get hurt because of you. We just wanted to know who the girl was, is all."

Ramirez didn't believe a word of that. But she knew she had to talk, or else.

"The girl's name is Isabella Swan…she goes by Bella, I guess."  
"She related to Charlie Swan, the Deputy Police Commissioner?"

"I…yes. She is."

"Huh."

Emmet pulled a ghastly looking clown mask from under his jacket and put it on.

"Well, my boss is going to find that real interesting."


	3. Izzy

When Charlie and I made it back to our house in the Gotham suburbs, I slid into the house in a daze of exhaustion, the emotional roller coaster I'd gone through that night seeming to have finally caught up with me. I took off my dress and let it fall to the floor, too tired to hang it up and not caring that it would be a wrinkled mess in the morning, pulled on my old sweats and fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow.

The next day I woke up and looked over at my alarm clock. It was nearly one in the afternoon! Cursing drowsily at myself, I sat up, wondering why Charlie had let me sleep so late on a work day…

I found out why after I stumbled into the bathroom; a sticky note had been placed on the mirror;

_Hey Bells, your work called, they're giving you the day off. Looks like what happened last night is headline news all over Gotham. Didn't want to wake you up. I'm probably going to be late tonight, lots of things happening at the department-Charlie._

Great. That was nice of them, I suppose, but I really would rather have just gone to work today. I mean, I really didn't need a summer job, but it was a much better way to spend time than sitting on my butt all day and doing nothing. Especially now, I could have done with the distraction. Letting out a martyred sigh, I turned the shower on and stepped in. After I got cleaned up and dressed, I turned my computer on and pulled my cell phone out of my purse.

I flipped it open and found out I had about twelve text and voice messages. It seemed every one of my friends had been wondering how I was, and, in the one case, if I needed any company today after what had happened.

_Thanks for the offer Mike, but I'm okay maybe I'll go out later with Jess and Angie you can come if you want_. I texted back. I flipped on the TV before I got back to anyone else, and cruised channels until I came across a 24 hour news network, trying to find out how much the Joker's raid was being hyped up. "Chaos in Gotham City!" was the lead in for the next story. I rolled my eyes; apparently a lunatic clown scaring rich people half to death before fighting a man in a bat costume was somehow "Chaos in Gotham City!".

"Last night in Gotham city, a terrorist calling himself 'The Joker' began a campaign of murder with three nearly simultaneous attacks…"

_Three?_

"Along with an attempt to assassinate Gotham City district attorney Jasper Hale, Gotham City circuit court Judge Antonia Surillo and Police Commissioner Gillian Loeb were both murdered early last night in brazen, public attacks. Judge Surrilo was lured to her car by men pretending to be police officers before an explosion was triggered in her vehicle, while the commissioner was poisoned inside of his own office, leaving police baffled as to how the Joker or his associates gained access to the highly secured Gotham city hall."

I shook my head, amazed at how Charlie still tried to protect me from this city; _lots of things happening in the department_ his note had said, not _well, the Commissioner is dead and the Joker blew up a judge. I don't think I'm going to sleep for a few days, much less get home. Sorry._ Of course, when I thought about it, I kind of prefer to figure things out on my own sometimes. I turned off the TV and picked my phone up and headed back to my room, planning on doing something routine to distract myself from thinking too much about what was going on outside. I looked around my room, finally remembering the dress that was still crumpled on the floor.

I picked it up, moaning in despair as I saw just how wrinkled it had become, and turned it around in my hands, inspecting it for any tears or rips. My inspection came to a dead halt when I came to the waistline. There was, a standing out clear as day on the black fabric, faint outline of white paint, from where the Joker had been holding me; apparently he'd gotten some on his gloves and it had come off on my dress last night. I looked from the faint smudge to my purse; the old joker card he'd given me was poking out the top.

Dropping the dress off on my bed, I plucked the card out of my purse and looked at the phone number on it again. I sat on my bed for a long time, wondering what to do with it. The smart thing, the right thing, would be to call Charlie or another police officer and turn it in. I wanted to do that. I really did. But, even though my mind was screaming protest at me, I reached for my cell phone and started to dial.

I snapped it shut with out hitting the send button and tossed it on the bed.

Later that afternoon, I really did go out with my friends, still trying to figure out what to do with the card. Jessica, naturally enough steered us towards an out door coffee shop and promptly proceeded to pick my brains about what had happened last night, demanding every detail I could remember, doing a better job of interrogating me then the police had. I eventually managed to detach myself form them and getting back home, having been spectacularly unsuccessful in forgetting about that psycho clown. I found myself back at the house around seven, with absolutely nothing to do again. Charlie still wasn't back yet, and I had a feeling that he wasn't going to get back anytime soon. I made a salad for dinner and eat about half, not really tasting a bite before I stopped and tossed it into the garbage. The thought of the Joker card still lying on my bed upstairs kept popping in my head; I still couldn't make up my mind about what I was going to do about it.

I thought about the moments just before I'd tossed the phone down last time, still with no idea why I'd done it. Almost called I mean…or why I didn't call, I had no idea.

That was it. I decided I was going to satisfy whatever creepy, impulsive side of me was so fixed on calling the number and to hell with consequences. I'd just call it, and whenever the Joker picked up I'd tell him to leave me alone, and then I'd call Charlie and tell him about the card. Then I'd admit to calling the number on it and deal with whatever panic that set off

I almost ran up the stairs to my room, grabbed the joker card off my bed flipped open the cell phone, and dialed.

I was shaking when I hit the send button…

The phone rang once before a cheery automated voice began;

"We're sorry, but the number you entered is incorrect or out of service, please hang up and try again."

After staring at the wall for what seemed like hours as the message repeated itself, I snapped my phone shut and set it down.

After all of that turmoil, it was just another sick joke? Why? I had no idea. He _was_ crazy after all. The next question was why I so devastated that the mass murderer who'd been hitting on had given me a bad number.

Still wondering what was going on with myself I got ready for bed.

I stood on a city street in the midst of chaos. All around me, people were screaming in terror and running, almost trampling each other in their haste to escape the maelstrom behind them-buildings, cars and even telephone polls were being torn apart in a rolling wave of explosions and fire.

I ran too, wondering what was going on, but not wanting to be consumed by the storm raging behind us; but I wasn't fast enough, and it wasn't long until the crowd outpaced me, .

Suddenly, a chasm opened up in the pavement in front of me, and I started to fall before I narrowly managed to grasp unto the far edge of the hole and hang on for dear life.

Someone shouted above me, and I looked up to find Jacob Black reaching down for my hand.

And then, someone below me started to laugh.

Jacob shouted again and grabbed my hand, but I ignored him, too curious about who could possibly be below me too not look…

Deep within the chasm, smiling happily up at us, stood the Joker.

He gave a mocking wave and then held his arms out in front of him, getting ready to catch me.

I looked up again at Jacob, then back down at the smiling fiend below me.

And then, without knowing why, I let go of the edge and plummeted down into the abyss, as the laughter grew louder and louder…

I awoke with a start and a gasp, sitting bolt upright in my bed. My breath ragged, I desperately looked around my room, making sure everything was as it should be, the dream had been so _real_. My thoughts raced what was that about? Why was Jacob there? Why had I let go? And most importantly, why was the Joker the one who was there to catch me? It didn't make any _sense_.

I repeated that out loud, shaking my head.

I lay back down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, watching the shadows cast on it trough the window intently.

"The Joker is a madman", I explained to myself using a calm, rational voice, "He's a killer god knows how many times over. You cannot possibly even _think_ of him in the ways you are. He is totally, irrevocably, _insane_."

From the darkness by my desk there was wet sucking sound, like someone inhaling while sticking their tongue out through clenched teeth.

"No. I am no_t_." a voice that sent chills up my spine hissed from the darkness, "I am _not insane_."

I sat bolt upright again, lunging towards the lamp at my bedside, knocking it over in my haste to grab at the on switch.

"Here, let me help…"

The reading lamp on my desk flipped on; the sudden bright light dazzling my eyes and I turned my head winced.

"Sorry."

I turned around, slowly, hoping that I was still dreaming.

The Joker was sitting in the chair at my desk, his face half in shadow as he flashed a crooked smile at me.

"Hiiii…" he said, drawing the greeting out as his smile grew wider.

"What…what are you doing here?"

"Me?" the Joker asked, voice full of mock confusion, "But you _called_ me! Or did you forget? You have that many guys chasing you that you can't keep things straight Isabella?" the Joker raised an eyebrow, "Not that I don't think your uh, _hot stuff_."

I rolled my eyes at him,

"How could you know I called if the phone number you gave me was disconnected?"

The Joker laughed,

"Oh dear, dear Isabella! Just 'cuz a phone numbers disconnected doesn't mean you don't know when people call."

My eyes narrowed,

"Uh-huh." I shook my head, already giving up on trying to male sense of anything he said, "But why are you here?"

The Jokers smile fell away, and he was silent for along while before laughing again,

"I uh, don't really kn…" he began before falling silent again. Finally, his face breaking into a glare, he said, "You called _meee_! What did _you_ want?"

I stared back at him.

"Did you want go out and have some _fun_?" he asked, before hopping out of the chair and bounding across the room. He swung unto the foot of my bed and sat cross-legged on it, his long purple coat pooling around him

I sat up straighter and leaned forward,

"What kind of fun?" I asked cautiously, getting ready to scream…

"I really wouldn't do that if I were you. And I'm not sure what kind of fun…I do have some extra explosives lying around that are just _begging_ too go 'kaboom'!" the Joker said, grinning happily at the thought.

"Ummm…maybe not."

"Awww, you're really no fun at all, are you Isa_bella_?" he said, his voice ominous.

"Look, could you please stop calling me Isabella? It's just Bella. No one calls me Isabella…" I said, trying to ignore his tone of voice.

"Bella? Bella?" the Joker repeated my name, with a look on his face like there was a bad taste in his mouth, "Bella, Bella, Bella _Swan_. Hmmm…don't like it. But if you don't like going by Isabella, I won't call you that either…oh, I know, how about Izzy?"

"How about not?" I shot back.

"Izzy, Izzy, Izzy…dizzy dizzy Izzy." He sang, "I like it much better."

"Stop. Calling. Me. Izzy."

"But I likkkeee it!" the madman whined, smiling.

"Stop it. Bad Joker."

He almost fell off the bed, he was laughing so hard.

"Y'know, if you wake my dad up and he comes in here and blows you away, don't complain to me." I snapped, smiling in spite of myself. Then my face went blank as I realized I was sitting here trading jibes with a mass murderer as he sat on my bed and at any moment he could…kill me. The cold chill on my spine returned with a vengeance.

"Oh good point! I wouldn't want your daddy to come in here while I'm around! That would put you in _shame_ wouldn't it?" He spoke as if the very idea was ludicrous.

I shrugged, trying to keep up a tough look.

Apparently I didn't succeed, as the crooked smile spread across the Jokers face again.

"If I uh, wanted to hurt you, Izzy, I would have done it by now. So what did you want to do? Go see a movie? Get dinner? Knock over a bank?"

"You want to take me on…_a date_?"

"That would be why I gave you my number, yes."

I shuddered, as almost every part of my mind screamed at me to tell him off. But who knew what he would have done if I said no…at least that was how I justified my answer.

"Fine. I'm not sure what I want to do, but call me tomorrow and…"

"Tommorow? But I'm here _now_."

"It's two in the morning! What's going to happen when Charlie wakes up and I'm not here…"

The Joker looked speculative,

"Well we could always pretend I _kidnapped_ you…" he said, smiling. Then he reached into a pocket on the blue blazer he wore under his over coat and pulled out a small rectangle of black plastic. He flipped it in his hand and a wicked looking knife blade snapped out the front, "In fact, let's not pretend."


	4. Groundrules

Sorry it took so long to get this one out, but I've been a bit preoccupied lately. Mardi Gras and all, you see.

_Somewhere in Gotham City, twelve hours before the abduction of Isabella Swan-_

I lean back in the rickety office chair and spin in slow, lazy circles, gazing up at the dim light bulb hanging from the ceiling by a thin cord and smiling. Of course, it's not like I can't ever _not_ smile; I absently flick my tongue along the inside of my cheeks, feeling the ragged line of my scars. Giggling, I stop spinning and slide the chair over to my desk. It's covered in knick knacks, knives and rust red stains. I look at it for a few moments, wondering what the best way to clear space would be…and then I lash out and swept the desk clean, laughing as the junk scatters across the rotting floorboards.

Fun times…speaking of which, it's time to figure out the best way to let the world know jusss_t _who the next person in my little game to die will be…let's see…not cop, Gotham's already overburdened criminal justice system was already down a police commissioner and judge so picking anymore targets from them would just be plain _sadistic_. I laugh again, happy memories of tortures past dancing through my mind.

Besides, I still need to deal with Jasper Hale. He managed to slink off into a corner and hide at our last little meeting but next time he wouldn't be _quite so lucky_…

There was a knock on the door.

"What?"

"Hey boss, I got that chick's name and address."

I leap out of the chair, sending it rolling back to crash into the desk, and dash across the room and fling the door open.

Emmet's standing there, his clown mask pulled down over his face.

"Will you take that _ridiculous_ thing off?" I snarl

Emmet laughs, but he pulls the mask off. It's not one of the usual clown masks my…_employees _wear; it's the same standard white, but its got dark yellow and black exes around the eyes, fake blue and green dreadlocks trailing down the back and a wide, shark toothed smile painted in red around the mouth.

"So if it's so ridiculous why do you make the expendables where them?"

"Call it an, uh…eccentricity stemming from my theatric manner. Now who's the girl?"

Emmet grins wider

"Why are you so interested anyway? You didn't fall in love at first sight, did you?"

I growl, and pull my favorite switch blade out of pocket before lunging across the room and slamming Emmet against the wall.

He might be several sizes bigger than me, but I'm still faster.

I smile and hold the blade to his throat.

"No." I growl, "I'm just curious. She uh, _laughed_ at one of myyy jokes. And you know just who _hard_ it is to find a good audience, don't you?"

Emmet grins wider,

"So you _are_ in love."

I roll my eyes and snap my switch blade shut; Emmet is just too valuable to kill.

"No." I repeat, "Now _give me the name_."

"Lets see…" Emmet reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, and pulled out a small post it note with something scrawled on it, "Damn, sometimes I can't read my own writing…"

I snatch the paper out of his hand,

"Isabella Swan." I read aloud.

"Fun, huh?" Emmet asks, "She's the deputy police commissioner's daughter."

I don't respond, and he stands waiting to see what my next move will be. Judging from the look on his face, he's eager to see what I'll do now that I have her name.

"There'll be a few days until Loeb's memorial service."

"So?"

"So I won't need you or the boys for awhile, why don't you all, uh, take a few days off?"

Emmet shrugs,

"As long as you think you can get enough of them rounded up in time."  
"Oh, I know I can. They've seen what happens when they don't show up on time. Now take a few days off…why don't you go see that little _pussycat_ of a cat burglar of yours?"

Emmet grinned widely,  
"Sounds good to me."

He walked out the door before calling out,

"Gimme a call if you want to meet up for a double date!"

He slammed the door shut behind him and the knife I threw at him imbedded itself in it.

I look down at the piece of paper again.

_Isabella Swan_.

The name didn't work, I decided. How could it? How could a name describe that _fascinating_ specimen of humanity? How could it suggest the smooth, creamy skin? The deep, expressive brown eyes? The long, auburn hair that cascaded down to her shoulders…gah! I was getting sidetracked again. While that did tend to happen to me a lot, it was happening even more since I ran into the girl at the party. For the past hours she's been bouncing around my head like a rubber ball fired from a claymore mine.

I needed to be able to think clearly…or at least as clearly as I could, for the rest of my plan to work.

Maybe if I just saw her again, I would calm down.

And if not, I could always just y'know…kill her.

I laughed again and pulled a small laptop computer out of a case by the desk.

Time to do some digging.

_Later, in the woods behind the Swan residence._

I hate the forest; with all the moss slick rocks and grasping trees roots sticking out at every step, I tend to fall even more than normal. I faintly remember my one disastrous experience with the girl scouts and shudder. Behind me, the Joker laughs.

"You're not scared of the dark, are you Izzy?"

"I told you to stop calling me Izzy."

"Ha! You also told me to not kidnap you!" the Joker swings around in front of me and flashes his crooked smile, "I'm just a lousy listener sometimes."

I glare at him, and the crooked smile starts to look awkward.

"Okay, okay, I won't call you Izzy." he says, his black circled eyes taking on a puppy dog look of pleading.

Despite myself, my mouth flickers into a smile.

The Joker grins widely and laughs.

"There's my little laughing girl."

I roll my eyes at him as he swings around to my side,

"So tell me, have you ever been kidnapped before?" he suddenly asks, as he guides me to a hidden path through the forest floor, one of his arms draped across my shoulders.

Before I could respond he continued,

"There's uh, a few ground rules."

Up ahead, I see that the woods opened up on a small service road.

"First off, don't try and get away, because that means I have to try and find you and I _hate_ chasing people."

His grip on my shoulder tightens as we step out of the forest and unto the road,

"Second, I kind of like having you around, so do me a favor and don't make me do anything to kill you, right?"

There's a black SUV sitting on the service road and he casually opened the passenger side door for me and smiled,

"Got it?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes at him.

"Now that's just im-po-lite, Bella."

I climb in and he slams the door behind me before sliding across the hood and swinging into the drivers seat.

"And here we go." he said, before starting the car up.

Half an hour later we were screaming through the streets of Gotham, the SUV's engine roaring as the Joker weaved through traffic, laughing maniacally each time we almost ran into another car or caused an accident. To make matter worse, he rolled down the windows and would occasionally lean out into the wind, eyes closed, and let the slipstream whip across his face.

My hands were firmly glued to the dashboard and the handhold as I watched his driving with wide, fearful eyes.

He glanced over at me and grinned widely,

"Having fun yet?"

Before I could answer he made a sudden left turn and fishtailed into the oncoming lane before righting the vehicle and taking off again.

"Hmmm?" he prompted.

"No."

"Awww…you should have said something! If you want me to slow down…"

he slammed on the brakes and the SUV ground to a halt.  
In the middle of the street.

Thorns blared as cars swerved to avoid the sudden road block, and two small sedans smashed into each other.

"You see what happens when you're a back seat driver?" the Joker demands.

I glare back at him and he waggles his eyebrows before dropping the car back into gear and taking off again.

"Where are we going anyway?" I ask, hoping for an answer that wouldn't sound like a good place to dump a body.

"Well, uh since we've already checked out your neighborhood, I thought I'd show you mine."

Oh no.

"So tell me…have you ever seen what the Narrows look like in the early morning sun?"

The Narrows was the worst neighborhood in Gotham City, maybe even the country. Since the Scarecrow had unleashed his fear gas a few years ago even the police hadn't gone there, leaving it to be overrun by the worst criminals and gangs in Gotham City; the sole anchor of order, ironically enough, came from the Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane that stood at the center of the swirling vortex chaos and death that surrounded it.

"Great place for a first date, in my humble opinion…" the Joker said, before his piercing, demented laugh ripped from his throat as he saw the terrified expression on my face.


	5. Date Night in the Narrows

_Authors Note-Thanks for all the reviews! Sorry this chapter took so long to get out but my computer's crashed and I've had to get a little bit done at a time using other people's machines…also, I don't own any Twilight characters or DC/WB characters. Also, yes I know there's a crossover section now, but well, screw it. It's already here. But, hey, if any of you want to check out my House/Twilight fic over there, knock yourselves out._

Bella:

"Brakes!" I shouted as the Joker careened the SUV down a trash strewn street in dilapidated narrows; he just laughed, "Brakes!" I shouted again as he unerringly aimed the vehicle at a telephone pole.

"Now Bella what did I tell you about backseat driving?" the Joker scolded,

"You're about to kill us both you lunatic!"

The Joker suddenly slammed on the brakes and the SUV spun out of control, its tires squealing as it went through a complete one hundred eighty degree turn before ending half parked on the sidewalk. We sat in silence for a few moments; the only sounds came from the SUV's idling engine and the Jokers ragged, angry breathing.

"I am _not_ a lunatic." he finally ground out.

"Yeah? Then why were you trying to kill yourself and me?"

The Jokers head snapped around, his topaz eyes blazing with rage,

"I promised I wouldn't hurt you." he growled, "And I'm a man of my word. _Got it_?"

I nodded, too frightened to speak.

The Joker sighed, and then threw open his door,

"We-lll any_way_ we're at as a good a place to stop as anywhere."

He hopped out of the car and came around to my side and opened the door.

"Lets uh, take a walk!" he said, offering a purple gloved hand to help me climb out of the SUV.

I ignored the offered hand and hopped down unto the crumbling concrete sidewalk.

The Joker giggled,

"So uh, where to dollface?" he asked, waving an arm to encompass the decaying expanse of the narrows.

I shook my head in wonder; how exactly did I wind up in this situation again?

Just then the Joker glanced over at me, his topaz eyes smoldering in their surrounding circles of black face paint, and I remembered.

Because I was an idiot.

Joker/Edward:

Well this really wasn't going according to my plan ( I know, I know. I hated _plans_ but no matter what I might tell anyone, usually before sinking a serrated knife blade in their chest, they are a neces-sary e-vil. Like me!)

And I _hate it _when things don't go according to plan

The plan was simple, in my own humble opinion; drag Bella Swan screaming from her house, bring her to the worst part of the narrows and rid myself of this wonderfully annoying obsession for her I'd acquired one way or another.

Unfortunately, I'd discovered some very interesting things instead.

She didn't scream; any sensible girl would have let loose with a shriek that could shatter glass if she found uh, _guy like_ _me_ sitting in her room. Well, that might have had something to do with her daddy dearest the deputy commissioner not being around to help her (honestly, you'd think someone had kept him at his work all night by launching a reign of god-awful chaos or something) but still; strike one against the human survival instinct.

She didn't flinch away every time glanced at her, didn't cower away from me like anyone else would have done.

And worst of all, she was fun. Not my usual type of fun with explosions and fire and red, red blood flowing from each little cut from my blades…sorry, sidetrack.

But she glowered at me and retorted to every little witty remark I sent her way. It might be an ego thing; ok, it _was_ an ego thing, but I'd always considered myself to be a bit hard to keep up with.

But she was managing.

She was becoming more…_intriguing_ with every passing second.

This was definitely _not_ going according to plan.

I let out a mournful sigh, ignored the curious look Bella gave me, and began to walk down the trash strewn street, leaving the girl behind me.

"You coming?" I asked over my shoulder,

"I never told you where I wanted to go!" she shot back, glaring at me.

I laughed at what she no doubt intended to be a fierce expression and skipped back to her side.

"Well _I'm _going that-a-away." I said pointing over my shoulder, "You can stay here by yourself if you want. But you might not want to, considering the neighborhood…" I leaned forward until my lips were next to her ear "I really don' think it's safe." I whispered, before giggling and turning to walk back the other direction.

She was quiet for a moment, half a second, at most, before she suddenly scrambled to catch up.

I laughed again; she was scared enough of the narrows to see me as her only hope.

Off hand, I'd say she was either a little bit crazy or she had a lousy sense of danger.

Here's hoping it's the former…

Bella:

Ok, this was just nuts. What was wrong with me? Not only had I let the Joker take me form my house without even trying to put up a fight, but here I was following after him like a trained dog.

I knew The Narrows was the most dangerous borough in Gotham City…but my chances of survival still had to be better in the maze of street gangs and dilapidated tenements than they were with a mass murdering lunatic like The Joker.

But I still followed after him; I had to admit it, he was intriguing in some bizarre, terrifying way. The same way that a terrorist or outlaw biker could be intriguing; they were dangerous, unstable people living at odds with the world around them, and what could be more fascinating, in a deep, dark sense of attraction, then watching them clash with the existence they'd decided to oppose? At least that was what I told myself as I followed The Joker deeper into the decayed streets of The Narrows.

He'd said he wouldn't kill me, but what could the promise of his be worth?

He seemed to reinvent himself with every moment, playing the laughing, goofy clown at when it suited him, then the mass murdering fiend when that worked better, and when that didn't work he seemed to act like a befuddled, slightly awkward young man unsure of the way he was supposed to act…alright, that was mainly conjecture I suppose, but it shone through the other, more vile and terrifying aspects of his personality, or at least it did to me.

I guess that was why I followed him as he ambled down the streets of The Narrows, laughing occasionally as the unsavory denizens of the streets fled in all directions at his approach. The Joker wasn't all that physically imposing; if you took away his bizarre makeup, his purple, green and blue suit…and the jagged scars that twisted his face into a permanent smile he would be a perfectly normal looking young man, or, at least, that's how it seemed to me. But I watched as two hundred fifty pound gang members who casually carried automatic weapons in plain view fled at the sight of him at the end of the street they were hanging out on.

What had he done to earn such fear? I hadn't even heard of him before he started rob banks, slaughtering his own compatriots and leaving his twisted playing card mark behind him but clearly there was more, if Gotham's criminal underworld held him such fear.

The Joker had been walking beside me, firing off random questions about me which I had been answering offhand, to wrapped up in my own thoughts to pay him my full attention.

But he interrupted my thoughts when he suddenly stopped and clamped a leather gloved and around my wrist.

"Y'know, Izzy dearest, most uh, _normal_ people would actually be paying a-ten-tion to the _murdering lunatic in clown make-up who kidnapped them_." the Joker snapped, glowering at me.

"I…what…I was paying attention!"

"Oh yeah? Then what did I just ask you?" he demanded, raising an eyebrow. When I hesitated, he rolled his eyes and laughed, "That's what I thought."

"Well what _did_ you ask me then? And didn't you tell me you weren't a lunatic?"

The Joker shrugged,

"Semantics, my dear, and what I asked was why id you move here from Phoenix?"

I frowned; I didn't remember telling him about that. He continued;

"Y'know Gotham City isn't the uh, most healthy place to live for highly trained and heavily armed special forces soldiers, much less seventeen year old girls."

"I'm eighteen. And I know it's dangerous; and even if I was under some illusion of safety here someone would have done a wonderful job of smashing it, huh?"

He laughed; the manically gleeful sound echoed up and down the cramped street.

"That's what I do best, you know. Shattering everyone's illusions is the just the very _best_ game in world!" he gushed

I shivered at the though of the way he could shatter illusions.

Suddenly, the Joker stopped.

"Say Isabella, dearest, would you like some ice cream?"

"I…what?"

"Would. You. Like. Some. Ice. Cream?" he said, speaking slowly, like he was talking o a not particularly bright child.

I glared back at him; "Your very charming when your condescending, did you know that?"

"Oh good, as long as it's not just me who thinks so." he said, before reaching under his overcoat and pulling out a handgun.

"What are you going to do?" I demanded, rapidly backpedaling as he racked the guns stainless steel slide back and chambered round. Suddenly, my heel made contact with an uneven concrete curb, and I found myself tumbling backwards towards the street. I flailed my arms, trying to regain balance; but it as no use. I was going to hit the asphalt, hard.

And suddenly that steel grip was at my wrist again, and I found myself yanked to me feet as suddenly as I had found myself falling.

The Joker stood in front of me, his body mere inches from mine.

"My oh my, Bella, you are just sooo helpless, aren't you? I like that." he said, smiling a vicious smile, "Now, as I was saying, would like to have some ice cream?"

"Its four." I huffed, "Where are you going to get…"

Suddenly, he raised the pistol and pointed it at a nearby store window and squeezing off a burst of full automatic fire from his modified handgun, shattering the windows.

"From the ice cream shop, that's where." the Joker gloated before swaggering over to the now jagged and empty storefront and stepping through it.

He gestured grandly at the gloomy interior,

"It looks like we, ah, have the run of the place."

I stared at him in amazement.

Just how crazy was this guy?

I got my answer when he disappeared into the dark shop for a few minutes before he emerged with two ice creams cones and a golf visor, emblazoned with the name of the ice cream shops parent company emblazoned on it.

He flashed his crooked, scarred smile,

"It's been a pleasure serving you miss," he said, bowing, "Please come again to Frostees Ice Cream." he offered me the cone, still grinning.

Looking at his bizarrely painted face, the messy green sticking out around the ridiculous hat, and the silly grin plastered on his face, I couldn't help myself

I started to laugh.

Guffaw, in fact.

He looked surprised, then , being who he was, he joined in, throwing back his head and laughing along with me.

"Aw Bella…" he said, still giggling "You make it hard to spoil the mood. But we need to get out of here before the police show up and find the body…"

I immediately stopped laughing,

"What?"

The Joker laughed, before peeling off his visor and throwing it back in the shop,

"Just kidding."

I sighed in relief,

"Its not like the cops would ever show up to _this_, uh borough, anyway."

He offered me one of the ice cream cones,

"Rainbow Sherbert?"

A few blocks later, he tossed the remains of both ice cream cones unto the windshield of a parked car; I'd told him I wasn't hungry, which was true now that I was worrying about whether or not he really had killed someone in that store, and that I proffered vanilla anyway.

He called me boring and spent the next five minutes lecturing me about the importance of colors.

"But I _like_ vanilla." I told him when his tirade was winding down, "So there."

"Listen here _Izzy_, Vanilla is the most boring flavor in the world. You need a little color in eve-ry-thing. _Especially_ ice cream."

"But who would color at a funeral…besides you?"

The Joker laughed,

"I could uh, create some examples, if you'd like." He pulled out a wicked looking knife from his coat pocket and spun it in his hand, "Do you uh, see what I'm _stabbing_ at here Isabella?"

I glowered back at him,

"I hope you cut yourself a lot with those things."

The Joker threw back his head and cackled,

"Oh, non, dear Bella. I don't cut myself anymore…not since I got these…" he lovingly stroked the gashes on the sides of mouth, "It's a funny story, really. Wanna hear it?"

"Absolutly not."

The Joker growled, before draping an arm over my shoulder, still spinning the knife with his free hand.

"You know Bella, it's considered very _rude_ to tell people you don't want to know more about them." his voice was, low, nasally, and filled with a rage that turned the blood in my veins to ice water, "And I _can't stand rude people_…" he snapped the knife up, and I flinched away and tried to break out of iron grasp. He held tighter; I couldn't get away. And then he exhaled, long and low, before breaking into maniacal laughter,  
"Awww Belllaaaa…I already said I wasn't going to hurt you, didn't I?" he chided, before throwing the knife down an alley with enough force to bury it hilt deep in a wood fence,  
"And as much fun as the ice cream debate has been, we ,uh, have arrived at our destination." he declared grandly.

He spun on his heel and gestured to a decaying high rise building next to us,

"Here we are," he led me over to the steps, climbed half way up, and turned to help me up the crumbling and broken stairs, "Sorry about the uh, conditions. I'm really more of a decorator than a maintainer."

"What…" I started to ask,

He kicked the door open, and the interior of the dilapidated building's lobby. Multicolored Christmas wound across the ceiling, wrapped up the banisters of the grand staircase that dominated the middle of the room, sparkled from columns of green marble that stood in two rows, like soldiers on parade along a tattered red carpet that flowed from the entrance of the room to the staircase. Crammed into every corner of the room were bizarre carnival games from the turn of the century. Most of them had been daubed over with patches of red, green, and blue paint in bizarre, interlocking patterns. A marble, oval shaped reception desk sat halfway between the entrance and the stairs. large, half moon sign hung over it. It read "TRESSPASS AND BECOME PART OF THE DÉCOR" in crudely painted red letters, signed with a dripping red smile.

"…do you mean." I finished, staring dumbfounded.

The Joker laughed before dragging me into his private playground.

"Like it?" he asked, before slamming the door behind him.  
"Yeah." I said, breathlessly looking around at the multicolored insanity in front of me.

I also finally understood something else about the Joker.

"All the worlds a stage…" I said aloud.

"…and all the men and women merely players.' he finished, using a ridiculously abd English accent, "Shakespeare, from _As You Like It_. Someone paid attention in literature class. You little Nerrrrd."

"Actually I just figured something out about you."

"Oh really? And what might that be?"

"You think you're a performer don't you? Everything you do is like an act to you, isn't it?"

"Oh my, oh my, Mrs. Freud. How deeply your psychoanalysis cuts me."

"You're saying it isn't true?"

"Yes. That is ex-act-ly what I'm saying."

"Than why do…what do you do?"

"Why why why…people always ask me that question. Why are you here? Why are you doing this? Why don't you just let me dieeeeeee!" the Joker cackled, "There is no why, dear Bella, I just do the things I do because _they're funny and I'm the only one who gets the Joke_." he growled, his voice bitter.

The Joker's face hovered inches from mine, his eyes burning into mine, radiating strength, corruption, chaos and an insane joy that overrode even his darkest auras. I stared at him in wonder, seeing for the first time a glee of the damaged human being below that makeup on his face.

"Now, about that sunrise I was talking about." he said, breaking the bizarre spell.

He strode up the staircase, his long purple coat flowing behind him like the raiment's of some bizarre royalty.

The King of Disorder, ruler of the hellish underworld of Gotham City.

The Clown Prince of Crime.

I giggled slightly at the bizarre titles I'd come with; they sounded like something from a bad comic book.

He turned and grinned,

"That's it Bella…never be too serious. Now, if you would uh, please, follow me."  
He led me up the red carpeted stairs, past a bizarre array of old pin ball and arcade games and what looked like something that had once been a restaurant or bar, but was now full of mismatched tables and chairs, overflowing bookshelves, glass cases full of random junk, and what looked an old stainless steel trailer form the late '50s.

"What…what was this place?' I asked the Joker as he wound his way to an elevator bank where every door was decorated by psychedelic looking demon faces.

"This was, at one point, the most Walden Pastoral, the finest health retreat in Gotham city." the Joker gestured waved his hands grandly at our brightly lit surroundings, "That was until about the late twenties when ol' Jermiah Arkham built his asylum on this island. The inmates had a habit of escaping and uh, putting the rich guests on a _verrry_ drast-ic weight loss plan. Eventually the place was just abandoned as the Narrows became the _cesspool_ of the city."  
"Until you came along, right?'  
"Welllll…I had to ah, _prevail_ on some of the occupants to vacate, but yes. It's mine now.

He mashed a green painted elevator button and one of the painted doorways slid open. He stepped inside, beckoning for me to follow.

I stepped inside, and he hit the button for the top floor.

A thought suddenly occurred to me,

"Why do you trust me with this?" I asked,

the Joker looked at me and smiled,

"You mean, why do I trust you with the location of my super secret hideout?"

"Yes."

"Ahhh dear Bella…besides the fact that we're in the narrows, do you have any idea at all where we are?"

I bit my lip, not wanting to seem even a little weak in front of him.

The Joker laughed,

"Confidence is sexy Bella." he drawled, smiling at me. "You should never be afraid to admit your weaknesses to people. You can always slit their throats later." he waggled his eyebrows at me and smiled conspirationally.

I felt my cheeks begin to flush red, and fought in vain to keep the color off my face.

The Joker smiled wider,

"Like I said…everything looks better in color."

It didn't seem possible, but I think my cheeks got even redder.

_Stop it, stop it, stop it_ the rational part of brain screamed _what part of mass murdering terrorist in a bad suit and make do you find so attractive, moron?_

I chewed those thoughts over in my mind over and over again as the elevator ground shakily upwards.

_The hell with it. _I decided suddenly, quieting my internal protests _I like the Joker. In THAT way. I admit it. Pretty sure the _why _is unimportant._

Oh boy.

Now who did I sound like?

A few minutes later, the elevator doors slid open to a dilapidated hallway illuminated by green and blue light bulbs. the Joker hopped out of the elevator turned to see that I was following him, and glanced at the watch on his wrist.

For some reason, I realized it was an old Mickey Mouse club watch. Where had he gotten _that_? I wondered, giggling with a slight edge of hysteria.

The Joker smiled widely, like he seemed to do every time I laughed.

"We're just in time."

"For what?"

He waggled his eyebrows again, before taking my hand in his and leading me down the hallway.

He kicked open a door and led me up a flight of stairs an unto the old hotels roof.

"What's up here?" I nervously asked, nervous at how high off the ground we were as the wind wiped across the roof.

"The view." he answered, pointing to the east, where the sun was just coming over the horizon.

"I don't get it…" I murmured, watching the sun start to reflect off the waves of the Atlantic. The wind picked up again, chill with the first hints of fall. I started to rub my bare to try and keep them warm, when I felt a heavy weight on my shoulders.

I looked down and realized that the Joker had draped his purple over coat over my shoulders.

I felt him lean head down and rest it by my ear.

"Bella." he whispered,

"Y-yes…"

He giggled at my stammer,

"Turn around, dear Bella."

I did.

But instead of finding myself staring at his dark eyes, I saw the massive skyline of Gotham City jutting up all around us, tall towers of glass and steel in every direction.

And then, the sun rose high enough for its rays to reach that urban jungle and it exploded in a riot of bright lights and colors as the sunlight reflected from every surface I could see, gleaming like the star that was casting its light on it.

I gasped in surprise.

"Do I know where to take a date, or what?" the Joker asked from behind me.

I turned to see him smiling that crooked smile, dark eyes dancing with amusement from their painted circles.

And before I knew it, I was smiling back.


End file.
